


Never Say Never

by bearonthecouch



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: A New Dawn - John Jackson Miller, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, New Beginnings, Post-Star Wars: A New Dawn, Pre-Star Wars: Rebels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:48:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24989326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearonthecouch/pseuds/bearonthecouch
Summary: “The Jedi forego all attachment.”“I thought you said you aren't a Jedi anymore.”
Relationships: Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla
Kudos: 43





	Never Say Never

Kanan fidgets in the copilot's seat, occasionally letting out a heavy sigh as he stares out at the swirling colors of hyperspace visible through the cockpit window. Hera sits in the pilot's seat, her feet up on the console and her eyes firmly fixed on her new passenger.

He becomes aware of her attention on him, and he turns and flashes her a bright smile. It doesn't quite reach his eyes.

“That was a hell of a shit show we left behind on Gorse,” Hera says simply. Kanan nods agreement.

Now that the two of them are alone, he seems willing to abandon much of the carefree persona he'd been wearing on the mining planet. Hera knows only a little of the burden he carries, but that little is enough for her to know she doesn't envy him. She studies this quiet, subdued man that has taken the place of the wisecracking daredevil she'd first met a handful of weeks ago. She misses the laughter of that man, but this feels much more honest. She doesn't pry into Kanan's history. This partnership of theirs still feels much too tentative for that.

So far, Kanan has been willing to go wherever she takes him and do what she tells him to. The _Ghost_ belongs to Hera, and Kanan has not tried to change that. But as she watches him now, Hera begins to realizes that there is a not insubstantial part of her that _wants_ that to change. A part of her that wants the ship to be, not hers, but theirs.

“You're quiet,” she muses. Kanan shrugs. “You can talk to me, you know.”

“Yeah? What exactly am I supposed to talk about?” There is a harshness to his tone that startles Hera. She turns back to the controls, although flying requires little concentration until they revert to realspace. And their destination is still nearly half a day away. With Kanan in this kind of mood, that half a day could easily stretch into an eternity. He gets up, making his way toward the back of the cockpit.

“Kanan, wait,” Hera pleads, before he can disappear into the more private areas that comprise the rest of the ship. If he locks himself into one of the small cabins, she may not see him again until they reach Carida.

She doesn't quite expect him to stop, but he does. He turns back to face her, lingering in the doorway with a look of confusion on his face.

“Please talk to me,” Hera insists.

Kanan shakes his head slightly, and blows out a breath. “I'm still not sure what you want me to talk about.”

“If you're going to stay on the _Ghost_ , we have to trust each other. There can't be secrets.”

“I'm not keeping secrets.” That is just on the edge of a blatant lie. But Hera already knows his biggest secret, and he does trust her. He's only known her for a few weeks and already he can't imagine his life without her.

“Sit down,” Hera tells him. Kanan walks the few steps to the co-pilot's seat and sits down once again. Hera spends several long moments musing over what to say. She isn't quite certain how to put her concerns into words. She isn't used to having companions, people she has to worry about. But Kanan can take care of himself.

“I've been lonely,” she admits. Kanan raises an eyebrow. Hera smiles, and shifts in the pilot's seat so that she's half-dangling over the edge, close enough that her hand could brush Kanan's arm, if she wanted it to. The man she'd met on Gorse had seemed the type who could find friends wherever he went, attracting them with his quick wit and easy smile. That man was still present, buried inside taciturn Kanan Jarrus, adept at hiding, adept at running as fast as he could to get away from the truth.

It's Kanan's eyes that meet hers now, and his mouth is half-open as though forming a word before speaking it.

Hera lets her fingers brush his arm.

His gaze freezes there, on the spot where she'd touched him, and then he wraps his arms around knees suddenly pulled up to his chest, shielding himself. There's no hiding the confusion on his features. He looks younger, now. Hera closes her eyes so that she doesn't have to look at him.

“This is not a good idea,” he demands.

Hera, eyes still closed, nods. “If you say so.”

“The Jedi forego all attachment.”

“I thought you said you aren't a Jedi anymore.” Hera opens her eyes to find Kanan leaning toward her, arm dangling over the arm of the seat with his hand curled into a loose fist.

He runs his hand through his hair and glares at her. As if his status as a maybe-or-maybe-not Jedi is her fault.

All Hera knows of the Jedi comes from their visits to her world during the Clone Wars, and that is little more than images and impressions. She was so young, then.

“Kanan, please,” she pleads, for the second time today.

“What do you want from me?” he asks her, seriously. The tone of his voice demands that she look at him. “You want the kind of party where we take off each other's clothes and tumble under the blankets?”

On Gorse, his teasing had more than once offered the possibility of exactly that. But Hera shakes her head.

“No. That isn't what I want.”

“Pity,” Kanan sighs.

“I want a friend, Kanan. A... a _partner._ ” As if they both don't know how loaded a term that is, one ever-flexible Basic word that can mean anything from business associate to a person to whom one has sworn a lifelong commitment.

The thing is, Kanan can read the waves of emotion that a person projects through the Force, and what Hera Syndulla means is far closer to the latter than the former.

Kanan's stomach tangles into a knot, and he repeats the mantra in his head: _No attachments._

Out loud, what he says is “I'm here for the long haul, Syndulla. If you'll have me.”

“But you won't ever talk to me?”

“Never say never.”

Hera laughs then, and Kanan smiles, and on a whim, he brushes her cheek with his thumb. Hera shivers under the touch. He gets up from the copilot's seat and takes her hand, pulling her up to a standing position.

He kisses her ear, her forehead, and finally, her lips. Her breath tastes strongly of toothpaste. “Kanan,” Hera moans, as much as she can with his tongue in her mouth. Kanan pulls away from her and grins, his face once again light-hearted and teasing. From one minute to the next, Hera has no idea who Kanan Jarrus will be.

She squeezes his hand and tries to catch her breath. “Partners,” she determines.

Kanan nods. “Yeah,” he agrees. “That doesn't sound so bad.”


End file.
